Coming of Age

by Ciana Stone

  He sucked her nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the nipple; at the same time, moving his left him to the other breast, teasing the nipple with his thumb.

  Livi stretched, writhed, and wiggled beneath him. He felt some kind of strange power rise inside him, something he didn’t quite understand but something that made him feel strong and powerful. His touch did this. His.

  He moved down her body, kissing and biting. When he reached her sex, he moved his hands to spread her, exposing her clit. One touch of his tongue on her clit and her fingers were tightening in his hair, her pelvis arching up against his mouth.

  He had never imagined her taste would be so sweet. He took his time, teasing her clit until her body virtually quivered then moving to plunge his tongue inside her and hear her moan and gasp his name.

  When he did let her come, she body quaked against him and she groaned his name. Max moved up her body, holding himself aloft above her with one hand on the bed. He guided himself to her wet center.

  Livi bucked up to meet him, wrapping her legs around his body, and pulling him deep inside her. Nothing had ever, or would probably ever feel as good as the feel of her tight sex gripping his cock, her legs tightened around him and her hands gripping his shoulders.

  Max never heard another sound other than that of her breath or his name on her lips. He didn’t know if time was passing or standing still. Nothing else mattered or existed. There was only the two of them; locked in a dance of love that opened a door he had not known existed, the door that led to unity.

  Sex was far more than he had dreamed. It wasn’t just physical even though the sensations were nearly overwhelming they were so intense. It was something that transcended the physical. He felt like he and Livy were linked, heart, and mind. He could feel what she wanted and responded in answer to those feelings.

  In turn, he felt her fulfilling needs he did not have to express in words. As corny as it sounded, it truly was a dance of love that ended separation. He was not alone. She was with him, part of him.

  He gave himself to it, not caring what lay beyond that wonderful moment. And when they finally lay exhausted in one another’s arms with dawn creeping upon them, he hear her soft whisper. “Happy Birthday Max. I love you.”

  He was right. Today changed everything. Today he came of age. Today he had won her love and from now on, nothing would be the same.

  Chapter Six

  The Present

  Max leaned back in his chair, using the heels of his hands to press against his eyes, as if that would blot away the memories and free him from their power. He’d once heard that you never really remember a feeling. You remember “feeling” but you don’t recall the actual feeling and experience it again. If that were true then he had to be some kind of freak, because he could sink back into those feelings all too easily.

  And it got him nowhere. Well, if he was honest, it did benefit him. It was because he could access those feelings that he was able to write the book, and now, with luck, the script. His editor had told him that he had the ability to make her believe that what she read was something real, something happening to someone, somewhere.

  If she only knew.

  Max got up and went into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. As he worked, his mind turned to what happened after he and Livi came back from the beach.

  A smile rose unbidden to his face. He was like someone obsessed after they returned. He couldn’t think of anything but her. When he was not with her, it was misery and when he was, he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

  If it bothered her, she never let him know. They stole moments whenever they could. Before work, in-between clients and after work. Max was rarely home except to sleep. His parents thought he was with his friends, when in reality, he was with Livi.

  He was in love and everything was right with the world. June passed in a blur of happiness. Then July rolled around and he looked forward to the July 4th weekend. His parents always spent a long weekend at the lake house and this year he’d told them he wanted to stay home. Which meant he would be at Livi’s for four days. Four uninterrupted days and nights. He couldn’t wait.

  July 2001

  Livi loved to watch the fireworks, so they planned on driving to Charlotte and watch the uptown display. They were running late thanks to him wanting her more than he wanted to get ready. They were just heading out of the door when something came in on the police scanner he’d set up for her in the kitchen the previous month.

  Livi was scrambling for her cameras before he fully got the gist of what was happening. “Come on!” She raced by him. “We have to get to the courthouse in Monroe, now.”

  Max ran to the car, surprised that she was in the passenger seat. Then he saw that she was loading film into her camera. He got behind the wheel. For the first time ever, she didn’t say anything to him about having a lead-foot or warn him that he was going to get a ticket.

  They were two blocks from the courthouse in Monroe when they hit a roadblock. Police were diverting all traffic away around the city. “What now?” he asked as he followed the police officers directions and turned around.

  “Find a place to park. We’ll run.”

  It took only a couple of minutes to find a shop on the edge of town closed for the night. Livi was out of the car before Max could grab her spare camera. She seemed to know where she was headed, so he followed.

  The closer they got the more apparent it became that whatever was happening it was something major. It looked like very police and fire official in the county was there. Livi ducked behind a parked car across the street from the courthouse. Between them and the courthouse, the street was cordoned off.

  He could see five fire trucks, a haz-mat van and what looked like a swat team gathered around a van he assumed was some kind of command post. A white van was blocking the main entrance of the courthouse.

  Livi had put her telephoto lens on the camera and was using the hood of the car to steady it as she shot. Max kept his eyes on what was going on. As he watched a man from the SWAT team stepped to the curb with a megaphone and ordered the drive of the van to step out of the vehicle.

  “Can you see anyone in the van?” He asked Livi.

  “No. Yes. No. I can’t be sure.”

  What followed, he would forever remember as surreal. The driver’s door of the white van opened and it was like the volume on a television set being turned down. Suddenly there was no sound. A man climbed out of the van and held his arms up, bent at the elbows. His left hand was spread, fingers up. His right hand was clenched. Did he have something in his hand?

  The silence ended with one of the eeriest things Max had ever heard. What must have been a hundred weapons cocked at the same time. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “Are you getting this?”

  “Yeah.” Livi replied. “I need the other camera. Hurry.”

  Max handed her the camera and she quickly replaced its lens with the telephoto. The SWAT officer was ordering the man to step away from the van. The man yelled something back but Max couldn’t make out what it was.

  The SWAT officer gave the order again. Max thought for sure the man would comply. Instead, the van exploded. Max literally jumped, his heart hammering fast in his chest.

  Half of the courthouse was gone, fire and debris raining down everywhere. It was like a scene from a movie, cool and exciting when viewed on the movie screen but horrible and terrifying when viewed for real.

  Max grabbed Livi to pull her down behind the car but she shook him off. “I have to get this!”

  “Livi!” He made a grab for her but she scooted by him, still shooting. “Livi!”

  He caught up with her at almost the same moment a police officer spotted her and yelled at them to get out of there. Livi paid no attention to the officer; she was headed closer to the explosion.

  “Hey! Get those people out of there!” A voice yelled, followed by. “Get that camera.”

  That did it. Max grabbed Livi from behind, around the waist
and whirled her around, shoving her in front of him. “Go!” He yelled. “Go!”

  This time she did. They ran like the devil was chasing them and didn’t stop until they reached her car. Max started the engine, threw it in gear, and stomped the accelerator. It wasn’t until they were a few miles down the highway that either of them spoke.

  “Can you believe that?” He looked over at her.

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. The courthouse is deserted this time of night. So it couldn’t be terrorists. And I don’t remember hearing about any protests.”

  “A man just killed himself!” Max yelled.

  “I know!” She yelled back at him.

  “And it doesn’t bother you that we just saw a guy blown to bits?”

  She went silent and didn’t speak for the rest of the ride except to tell him to go to the studio. When Max parked in front of the studio she got and preceded him to the door. She went straight to the darkroom

  Max followed her and stood in the dark, listening to her work and breath. Her breath was fast like someone recovering from a long run. He wondered if she was feeling as uncomfortable as he. He wasn’t afraid, wasn’t sick, but he couldn’t get the images out of his mind.

  When she turned on a light, he blinked and looked at her. Tears were streaming down her face. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, then shook her head, then waved him back when he took as step toward her. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

  Max made no further move toward her. He simply watched as she processed the film and hung it up to dry. Then he followed her out of the darkroom. She went to her office and stopped in the middle of the room, just standing there.

  “Livi?”

  She turned to look at him. “Please don’t hate me for this.”

  “I could never hate you”

  “I’m going to sell those photos, Max.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m going to profit off some poor smuck blowing himself up.”

  He had not thought of it that way and found it surprising that she did. “Isn’t that what the news is?”

  She barked a laugh. “I guess so. I need to make some calls.”

  “Then make them.”

  Within an hour, there was someone at the door of the studio from the largest newspaper in the Charlotte area. Max stayed out of the way as Livi talked with the man. When the man left, he had the negatives and Livi had a signed contract.

  “So?” Max asked as she turned from the door.

  She held out the contract. Max took it. He read the amount she was going to be paid and looked at her in surprise. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. You know what that means.”

  “What?”

  “No pizza!” She flung herself at him in excitement.

  Max caught her, putting his hands beneath her rear to support her as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. She rained kisses on his face and lips.

  Max had never seen her that excited. She slid down his body, devouring him with kisses that nearly made him dizzy and tearing at his clothes. He wasn’t about to argue with the direction she was headed, but did stop her long enough to turn off the lights in the front of the studio and lead her back to her office.

  That night was definitely indoctrination into the diverse ways of making love. Before the night was over, he’d made love to her on every piece of furniture in the office, as well as pressed against the wall and on the floor.

  And when finally, they were exhausted, they snuggled up on the old sofa in her office. His last thought was not of missing the fireworks, or of her selling the photos. It was of how right it felt to fall asleep with her in his arms.

  The Present

  Max suddenly realized that the coffee was ready. He looked at the clock and was surprised that he’d been standing there, lost in memory for the last twenty minutes. He poured a cup of coffee and returned to his desk.

  When he had been writing the novel, he’d found a way to channel those memories and feelings into words. He couldn’t count the hours he’d lost, unaware of the movement of his hands on the keyboard as he poured out his story.

  He had to find a way to do that again so he could finish this script. As he started to type, he wondered if it was most difficult this time because he’d seen Livi.

  *****

  Olivia barely noticed the cold or the misting of rain as she ran. She didn’t notice the burn of her leg muscles or the people she passed in the park. Her body was on autopilot. That seemed to be the way she operated these days. No matter what she was doing, her mind was occupied with Max.

  She knew this was a process she’d avoided for a long time, facing her past and her feelings and while a lot of it hurt like hell, she knew it was a healing hurt. For the first time she was ready to come to terms with what had happened and resolve her feelings.

  She’d already accepted the fact that right or wrong, moral or immoral, she’d fallen in love with Max all those years ago. Moreover, she’d never let go of that love and had done exactly what her friend Lydia had pointed out – she’d measured every man and every relationship since then against Max and her time with him.

  What she had yet to come to terms with was the way they had parted and her feelings about it.

  July 2001

  Ten days had passed since she sold the photos of the bombing. She’d seen them appear in numerous newspapers as they moved from the local paper into syndication with others around the country. It was exciting but also a little disappointing. Secretly, she’d hoped the photos would land her a job offer.

  She poured a second cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table to go over her schedule for the week. It wasn’t exactly packed. She had enough tucked away to make it a couple of months, but if things didn’t pick back up she was going to be in trouble.

  She had not told Max. She knew he’d tell her to stop paying him to save money. Olivia couldn’t do that. He earned his paycheck, and besides if he did not work for her there would be no excuse he could give to his parents to explain why he was with her so much.

  It gnawed at her that she felt so guilty about their relationship. He was eighteen now and there was no legal reason they could not be together. Still, the thought of what his parents and others in town would think and say if they knew caused her embarrassment.

  And that was the hardest thing for her to deal with. How could she be ashamed of loving Max?

  Her phone rang and she lifted it without looking to see who the caller was. A few seconds later, her heart was hammering in excitement. By the time she hung up with phone she was completely wired, and it wasn’t from caffeine.

  She’d been offered a job. With the New York Times. She was thrilled, excited, stunned, and terrified. She picked up the phone to call Max and then it hit her. This was the answer to more than her career and financial woes. This could be the solution to everything.

  She had two weeks to accept the job. If she took it and moved to New York, Max could go with her. He could enroll in a university there. With the salary she’d been offered if they were frugal, she could put him through college.

  It could work. Her excitement level doubled, and then tripled. She and Max could be together. It was a dream come true. She called and left a message on Max’s voice mail to meet her at her house instead of the studio, then headed for the shower, dancing and singing.

  She’d just dressed and was headed to the kitchen to fix some breakfast when she heard the front doorbell. Thinking Max must have forgotten his key, she ran to the door and threw it open.

  “I didn’t think you’d ever get—“Shock had her stopping short. It wasn’t Max standing at the door. It was his mother. Olivia had never actually met her but had seen her a couple of times when she stopped by the studio to see Max.

  “Mrs. Clearman. Hello. What can I do for you?”

  “May I come in?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” Olivia stepped aside for him to enter. “I was just going to make some bre
akfast. Would you like something?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Oh, okay, well, come on back to the kitchen.” Olivia preceded her, chattering nervously. “I can’t tell you how much progress Max has made with his photography this year. He has a remarkable eye and his composition skills are—“

  “I’m not here to talk about his photography skills, Ms. Warren.”

  Olivia stopped and turned to face her. “Then why are you here?”

  “I want you to leave my son alone.”

  Olivia’s heart sank. “Mrs. Clearman, I—“

  “No.” She held up his hand. “Forgive me for being blunt, Ms. Warren but I’m not here to listen to what you have to say or hear how you feel. I’m here because you are not good for my son.